Never Let You Go
by cinnamon-wolf-pup
Summary: When one of Collins students, 13 year old Mark,comes to stay, 15 year old Roger will do anything to protect him after what he has been through. rating may go up in a few chapters, Roger/Mark Angel/Collins ABANDONED
1. Chapter 1

"Alright, don't forget that you have a paper due tomorrow. And for the idiots who haven't started it yet, well, have fun tonight! Class dismissed," Professor Thomas Collins announced to the class as the final bell rang at 7:50 PM. He would have to stay a few hours later tonight, his other class had handed in their twelve page essays today, and he groaned thinking about how long he would have to spend on twenty eight, twelve page essays.

Most students had been ready to run out the door even before the bell, packing up their supplies while he was still lecturing and debating, no matter how many times he had tried they never seemed to get it through their thick skulls that they weren't going to be killed if they stayed in his classroom an extra five minutes to pack up. This class happened to be a summer class for the younger students who wanted to get a head start on new-age philosophy, namely sixteen and seventeen year olds, however he recalled one Mark, Cohen he thought it was, that was only thirteen. He seemed to be the only one who listened about waiting to pack up. He managed to stay in the classroom as long as possible, "_Probably to avoid waiting outside as long as he can. I can recall more than a few times when I've left at around ten PM and he was still standing out there waiting for a ride," _the professor thought.

"Hey, Mark, right?" he directed his attention to the scrawny looking thirteen year old. "_Well, looks more like eleven._"

Mark's head shot up from putting books into an old worn, torn sack. He looked almost….frightened. But once he saw that it was only his professor (who might have looked big and scary, but seriously, he wouldn't hurt a fly), his face halfway relaxed.

"Yes professor?" he timidly asked, still seeming a small bit frightened, but it didn't seem to be directed at the Professor, more at something that was to come.

"I was just wondering how you liked this course, seeing that you are the only thirteen year old, you must have had some interest in it," the professor, more commonly known as Collins around his friends, slid to sit on one of the desks to the right of Mark's.

"Well, um, yes, I've always been interested in things like this, mostly philosophy, and psychology too. Actually, um, I love filming. I've been filming documentaries lately on new-age issues," he blushed as he talked quickly, obviously not used to talking about his interests. It was then that Collins noticed the clothes he was wearing. Not that he would say anything to the boy, but he made note of his ragged, thin clothes. It was still cold for early June, most people were still wearing sweatshirts at least outside, and here this boy stood in the thinnest long sleeve shirt Collins had ever seen, and dirty, torn pants, no coat in sight.

"That is a very good thing to get into at a young age. I am betting that you are pretty talented, considering your papers. I don't know if you know, but you are the top of our class right now," Collins stated proudly, happy that he had found a young teenager excited about more than television and sex. That was always a good thing.

"Wow…I didn't know that," the child said, surprise clearly showing on his face.

"It's true. I have high hopes for you, kid," Collins smiled at the boy, who smiled back bashfully. "Now, I've noticed that when I'm going home, sometimes as late as ten at night, you were still standing out there, waiting for someone. Is everything okay? Do you need help with something?" he asked, going into concerned teacher mode.

Mark blushed furiously at this. Did he know? Was he going to call his dad and say that Mark told? Oh god, oh god, oh god. Tonight would be horrible. "Um, no, not at all Professor, um, my dad, he just works…late," he lied through his teeth, the best thing he could come up with without taking too long. He hadn't known that there was still professors there that late, and had usually just come out from hiding by then.

"Okay, if you are sure, but just know, if you ever need to talk, or just need anything at all, don't be afraid to come to me. I'm not as mean as I look," he chuckled, and Mark gave a weak grin. "In fact, why don't I give you my home number, and address, in case you need it. Remember, any time is fine. I have some crazy roommates but they are pretty nice. In fact, one, Roger, is just a little bit older than you. So don't be afraid to bother me, I really don't mind, I don't mean to push you, but I do know that something isn't right. When you think you can, come talk about it. Get it off your chest; it can make it better sometimes."

"O-okay, pr-professor," Mark was able to stutter out. Oh god, his dad was in such a bad mood last night, it was BAD last night…he couldn't imagine tonight. He took his camera out of his bag, his old, almost-broken camera. Maybe he wouldn't be so anxious waiting tonight if he had something to do.

"Nice camera you got there, I haven't seen one of these babies in years," Collins admired. "Okay, as long as you know. Here is my phone number and address, if one of my roommates answers, ask them for Collins. They refuse to call me Tom," he laughed, making Mark grin again as he handed him a piece of paper. "And…umm…if a women answers, in black rubber pants or a rubber cat suit, it's okay. That's just Maureen," He said embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck. Oh well, at least he finally got Mark to really smile.

"Uhm…you aren't going to….call my parents or anything, r-right?" Mark stuttered again, still nervous.

"Not if you don't want me to. I will talk to you before I do anything, I promise," Collins said, coming to stand in front of the young boy. Taking his hand, he held it softly. "Everything is going to be okay, Mark, I promise that as well. I can help you, if you want it. You would always be welcome to stay with me and my roommates, it may be cold and a bit crowded, but it has pleasant company. I think you and Roger would really get along well."

Mark nodded, willing himself not to cry. The tears were right there in his eyes but he could NOT, under any circumstance, cry. It was a sign of weakness. If you cry, you get it worse. And he would do anything to not get IT worse.

"Thank you professor," he just about whispered, afraid to say anything else that might make the floodgates open.

"Anytime Mark. Now, would you like to wait inside for a while today? It is pretty cold out there."

"Um no thank you anyway, I don't want my father to get mad if I'm not out there when he comes. Uh, I mean, he's had a long day, he isn't usually in a good mood after work, and his boss is giving him a hard time. I just don't want to make it worse on him," Mark said quickly once it started to sound like the truth. It felt so hard to hide it from this professor; he obviously knew something was wrong. The question was, did he know what it was?

"Okay, well I'll be here for a couple hours grading papers. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll be here," Mark said, and started walking out of the room, when he suddenly turned back quickly.

"Hypothetically…if it were say someone else…what would happen if something was wrong?"

"Well, Mark, the school and the police would help to protect you. We would have to go to the police, and most likely file charges. I'm sure you could stay with me, I mean, if you wanted to of course. It would most likely be your choice," he told his most promising student sympathetically.

"T-thank you, professor," Mark said, looking down

"Of course, Mark, anytime."

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Two hours later, at about a quarter past ten, Collins was preparing to leave, putting milk crates full of papers on the back seats. As he drove out the entrance to the school grounds, he saw his young student sitting on the curb.

"Mark! Hey! Are you doing okay? Do you need a ride?" Collins asked, hoping that at the least he could bring the student home, even in his leather jacket the professor was freezing his rear-end off.

"Oh, no Professor that's alright, my dad should be here soon," he said, looking dejected and cold with his arms around his legs.

"Well, okay then, if you are sure. But at least take this sweatshirt, I have plenty and you look frozen child. No, I insist," he pressed on as Mark was about to protest.

"Thank you, Professor." Mark said, embarrassed at his clothes and his whole self.

Just then, a pick up truck turned the corner, and Collins looked to Mark as his face turned from embarrassed to fearful.

"H-hi, D-d-dad," he stuttered more than ever. "This is my p-professor, Professor C-Collins…" he trailed off, at the look on his fathers face. He then said under his breath so that only Collins could hear, "Oh no…"

"So you're that faggot teacher? What the hell is wrong with the country when they let fags teach our kids?" The big man sneered, and Collins looked murderous, as he saw Mark's face, with one lone tear sliding down his cheek.

"Excuse me, but I would appreciate if you didn't use derogatory language of that nature, especially around your son," Collins snarled, as he got out of the car, and Mark's father did as well.

"He is my son. I will say what I want to around him. You do not tell me how to treat my son!" The obviously drunk man came up in Collins' face, and slapped him hard. Collins saw Mark wince in sympathy; it was quite obvious he knew what that hand felt like.

When Collins raised his hand to defend himself, he then put it back down, at least for Mark's sake. He didn't want to cause more of a fight. Instead, he got back into his car, and called out to Mark who was getting pushed to his father's truck.

"Mark! I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Around six alright?" He yelled out, only to see Mark barely able to nod his head when Collins stressed the word six. Normally, class started at 6:50, but he had a free period before that. And he wanted to be able to help Mark tomorrow if he needed it.

As the truck sped away, the professor, who has seen many bad things in his life, couldn't help but to start crying softly. Driving home, he went a little faster than usual the whole way, needing to see his lover, Angel.

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With his feet up on the arm of the couch, and his head on his lover's comfortable lap, Collins was resting with a cup of chamomile tea. He was still slightly crying, he hadn't been able to stop since he watched the man speed off with Mark.

"Honey there wasn't much you could do to stop a speeding car. You made the effort to help him, which is all you could do. You can help him tomorrow baby," Angel Dumott-Schunard crooned in his ear, trying to calm him down a bit.

"I know, I know. It's just…I can't stop thinking about him…what his father might be doing to him right this minute….He is scared Angel. He wants me to help him, but he thinks his father will find out. And…his father, oh god. His father, who had never met me before in his life, he only knew that I am a gay professor…he kept calling me faggot, and going on and on about me teaching his child. Like he even cares!" Collins cried out, frustrated. "That's it. I can't do it again. I'm taking him home tomorrow. I'm taking him here."

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The next morning, it was about eight o'clock, and Collins and Angel were the only ones out of bed, snuggling in an arm chair and drinking tea from the same mug. Collins kissed Angel on the nose, making her giggle, and making him manage a weak grin.

Just then, they heard a thumping outside the heavy sliding door, like someone was coming up the stairs, but who would be here this early in the morning? Everyone was already here, Maureen and Joanne had stayed in the extra room last night, and Roger was asleep, or was before the thumping, and Mimi was downstairs in her own flat but she never got up earlier than eleven.

As Roger came out of his room in only his boxers, he was the closest to the door and opened it. Letting out a gasp, he backed away and yelled for Collins and Angel.

The couple untangled themselves and got up from the armchair immediately, still in their pajamas, Collins in lounge pants and Angel in an old pair of Collins sweats, without her wig on yet. When they got closer to the door and saw who was standing there, covered in blood, bruises, and burns, with barely any clothes, Collins' eyes widened.

"Mark!"

Angel turned to Collins, silently asking if this was the student he had been worried about, and he nodded his head, and ran over to Mark, picking him up and carrying him to the couch, surprised that he was even lighter than he thought.

Mark moaned, sore and exhausted from trying to find where his generous professor lived.

Angel leaned down beside him and held his hand. "Hold on honey we're going to take care of you. What hurts the most?" she quickly soothed him and asked.

"M-my…um...well…" he got out, embarrassed to say anymore.

"Can you tell us what he did to hurt you in that place?" Mark heard a new voice, and saw someone that he guessed to be Roger standing a little off to the side, and coming closer, to stand behind the couch, out of the way but where Mark could see him, and grabbed his hand in an act of compassion that was rare from the tough boy.

"He….he um he told me that if I was hanging around a fa- I mean a gay teacher then I must be gay as well…he said he was going to 'turn me straight'…" he trailed off, ashamed at what his own father would do to him.

Roger spoke again. "Did he…did he rape you?' he asked softly.

Mark looked away for a moment, and nodded his head just enough for them to see.

"Oh, honey…." Angel said, tears in her eyes.

"Ang…babe can you take care of him for a minute I am going to go call the school and get the day off," he asked and stood when she nodded.

"No! You don't have to, it's okay I don't want you to miss work because of me!" Mark said, not understanding that Collins wouldn't take no for an answer.

"No, Mark, it's fine. I don't have anything important today, nothing a substitute cannot do. I want to help you Mark. We all do."

"Yeah, Markie," Roger smirked a little at the name and squeezed his new friend's hand. Not that he would ever say it out loud, but he hoped that he would never have to let it go.

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A/N: hey I'm back! I probably won't be updating any HP stories at least for now. But I am falling in love with RENT!! Lol I don't own RENT. I wish I did. Cuz then I could make Mark and Roger get together for real.


	2. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Author's Note:

Author's Note:

Honestly, I am surprised at myself that I wrote that chapter. I should know by now that life does not work that way. People are not that caring. They don't take the initiative to help a child, because they do not want to deal with that burden. Please understand that I am sorry, but I will not be continuing this story. Because this cannot truly happen in real life, I cannot deal with writing a "what could happen if people had hearts" type of story.

That is not to say that I will not re-write this. I will be posting a new story, not exactly the same, but not all that different. I will leave this story up, because I know that when an abandoned story that I love is taken off because the author did not like it, I am disappointed. Look for the new story, it should be up soon!

Love always,

cinnamon wolf pup


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